


The midnight 19 Chevy Impala with a fully functional record player

by Crackcrazeddragonpony



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, tags will be added as I go
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-06
Updated: 2015-06-06
Packaged: 2018-04-03 02:38:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4083481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crackcrazeddragonpony/pseuds/Crackcrazeddragonpony
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One night Sam, a runaway from a place you'll learn about later, meets a stange man named Castiel when taking shelter from a rain. While obliging Castiel and drawing a "midnight 19 Chevy Impala with a functional record player" Sam listens to Castiels curios tale of how he arrived here.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The midnight 19 Chevy Impala with a fully functional record player

Sam ducks into the shed, hoping for shelter from the pounding rain.  
He looks anxiously over his shoulder, half expecting to see the orderlies flashlight, and hear their footsteps running towards him.  
He listens for a moment, before sinking down in the corner, listening to the rain pound on the windows.  
"Hello."  
He spins, gaping at the man sitting stiffly on a chair in the corner, his face consumed by shadow. He wore a large beige trenchcoat and had a stumbled chin, messy hair, and unnaturally blue eyes.  
"W-who are you?!"  
He yelped, stumbling back towards the door.  
"I am Castiel. Very nice to be meeting you." The man offers his hand, to Sam, hovering it there for several minutes as Sam clutched a broken board, staring at the hand like he was terrified it would bite them. Cas hesitated a moment, before looking at his hand in confusion.  
"This-this is the customary greeting as of now, is it not?"  
Sam stared at him, his jaw hanging open.  
"Erm.. Are you aware that staring is rude? I have been made aware that if you do so, and open your mouth parasitic insects will enter through your oral cavity and take up inhabitable within your throat."  
The man looked Sam over, finally focusing on Sam's makeshift club.  
"I do not intend you harm if that is your concern. I was simply looking to remove myself from the rain, as I do not own any other human garb. May I inquire as to your identity?"  
Sam blinked a few times at the man's completely straight face, before realizing he must look like an idiot.  
"Uh.. Uh yes. Ya. I'm Sam. Sam Winchester."  
"It is lovely to make your aquaintence Mr. Winchester."  
"Just call me Sam."  
"Alright Sam."  
They sat in suffocating silence for a few minutes, Sam squirmed even as Cas simply stared at the wall.  
"Excuse me Sam. May I inquire something of you?"  
Sam started at the unexpected noise, turning to Cas.  
"Um. Sure. What?"  
"Could you instruct me as to how I could obtain a midnight 19 Chevy Impala with a functional record player containing the greatest hits of Metralica, Led Zepplin, Rush, and Sting in compact disk form?"  
"Um. Well this isn't really my area of expertise. You could buy one I guess."  
"Oh. I do have some money. Will this be sufficient?"  
Castiel reached into the large pocket of his trenchcoat, and pulls out a was of cash, handing it to Sam who took it, completely bewildered. Why would this guy just hand someone money?  
He counted it out obligingly, coming up With a grand sum of 23 dollars.  
Not much. But it would be some.. He could get a ticket.. He could buy a new dose.. He could- he couldn't though. It was the goddamn car. If Castiel had asked for anything else in the world, he would run but the car..  
Sam swallowed the painful lump in his throat, blinking back the tears quickly. He shoved the money into Cas's still outstretched hand before he could talk himself out of it.  
"Um. I don't think this will be enough," he babbled, "Cars are really expensive and old ones like Chevys are extra."  
Castiel looked somewhat dejected, and he looked despairingly at the money. Sam couldn't help feeling bad for this odd rumpled little man.  
"It can't be so bad. How important is a car anyway?"  
"Very," Castiel mumbled unhappily. "My friend is deathly ill and he needs this car."  
Same had never heard of any illness that could be cured by a car. This guy, he realized, must be handicapped or something. Some jerk was playing him.  
"Castiel," He said gently. "Whoever said they needed a car for an illness is lying to you I think."  
Castiels began to shake at this, and after a moment of panic Sam realized he was laughing.  
"You don't fully comprehend the situation Sam, and it's a long and rather complicated explanation. However Zepplin wouldn't ever take advantage of me, and it's not a normal illness. It's called a "home sickness" and I had hoped that bringing a car to Zepplin would help him recover."  
"Zepplin? Who is that?"  
"It's a very long story Samuel. Could I at least get a picture of the before mentioned car with this sum of money?"  
Sam looked at the handful of green. This could work. He could make this work. He could help Castiel. He could help himself. He could.. He could look to his memory, put the swirling painful memories to some use  
"Um. Tell you what Cas, you want to get this picture to.. Zepplin fast. Right?"  
Castiel nodded quickly, brow furrowed in confusion.  
"My... My brother. He used to have an impala. I could- um. I could give you a drawing. For- for that."  
He nods at the money, caught between the shame of playing this innocent stranger and the overwhelming NEED. The need won. The need always won. 

\-------------

"So. What kind of angle do you want?"  
The money burned in Sam's pocket as he stared at the paper on the table in front of him, clutching the pen.  
"I do not know. Does it make a significant difference?"  
Sam groaned in frustration, leaning back in his chair and running a hand through his hair.  
"What do you even need this for? Maybe it will help."  
Castiel fidgeted.  
"It's a very long story."  
"Well I have time," Sam snapped. "This rain isn't going anywhere soon, you might as well tell me. Do you want a car for Zepplin or not, I mean- what kind of name is Zepplin?!"  
Cas had an oddly dreamy look on his face as he leaned on the opposite door.  
"A lovely name. A strong, righteous name for a strong righteous man."  
"Do you have a thing for this guy or something?"  
Cas looked away quickly, but not before Sam saw his ears turn red.  
"Tell me. C'mon. It will only gets worse if you don't talk about it."  
Cas looked reluctant for a moment before nodding slowly.  
"But.. It is very long. And.. It will sound rather odd. Likely institution worthy."  
Sam chuckled bitterly.  
"I can't judge there."  
Cas looked at him again, in this uncomfortable soul piercing way that made Sam squirm like a 3rd grader under the gaze of an angry school teacher.  
"I will offer you a deal Sam. I tell you my story and you tell me why you are out here tonight."  
Sam hesitated for a minute- but still. Who was this guy going to tell? Sam was 80% sure he was homeless and the curiosity was going to kill him.  
"You Castiel, have a deal."


End file.
